


Petrichor

by baepsaesuga



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baepsaesuga/pseuds/baepsaesuga
Summary: All he wanted was to go home.They wouldn't let him so he fought back.The last thing they expected him to do and he smelled petrichor once more.





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> if you're not one for violence, i suggest not reading this. but read the tags and see if you can handle it.
> 
> other than that, please enjoy!! i wrote this a few years ago and thought i'd publish it.

It was a dark, foggy night, no lamp posts or street lights were lit, only one of the four looming moons overhead illuminates the path as a purple boy stumbles down the damp road. His bare feet slap harshly against the pavement, the sloshing and dripping sounds of his blood following closely behind. His midnight blue hair covers his eyes, his pointed ear sticking out like horns and the stars that once shown in his eyes dwindle to almost nothing. He wheezes and groans lowly as he clutches a deep wound in his side; his vision progressively blurring with each step as he loses more blood. The only thing covering his frail body is a thin hospital gown drenched in blood. Abruptly, his mind fills with loud static and his lungs with piercing fire; he knew he couldn't go much further. The boy coughs, spraying blood out before him as he gasps and jolts to a stop. Glancing down at his cold, pale hand, his shiny black blood glimmers in the moonlight as hot tears run down his cheeks. Whimpering, he presses on his gaping wound harder, trying to slow the bleeding. He vaguely recalled what had happened to him, but his mind was far too busy to let him focus at all.

Images and fragments of memories flash in his mind, making his head throb and his stomach hurt, the pain of what those creatures did to him flooding back and he screams. He remembers all the times he was sent back to this moment, having to relive this torment over and over again, without end. They made him somewhat immortal so they could continuously test him, calculating his strength and stamina fluctuations, forcing him to run or fight. He despises these monsters; they made him just like them. They ripped his family away from him and took over his planet, making him  _theirs._ He had nothing to go back to, no one to embrace him ans tell him "everythinf will be okay"; he is alons, tired and, without a doubt, getting out this time.

He abruptly shudders and feels something sharp prick his lung, making him gasp, He then plunges his hand in the opening of his wound, his back tensing and his toes curl as he reaches up inside his ribs and rips out a glowing, metal object. He falls on the pavement, his vision going blurry and black for a monent and spots cloud the edges of his vision but he just stares at the bloodstained object as a dull green light flashes three times rhythmically. Rage fills his entire being and he yells at the top of his lungs as he flings it away from him and it disappears behind a wall of trees. He trembles slightly as he tilts his head up and watches the stars in the night sky flicker and he aches, longing to go home. After all, he just a boy to this terrifying, outlandish world.

The fact that he  _knew_ he'd never make it back to his home planet and familiar constellations made every part of his body and soul sink into hopelessness. His senses went dull as he got up and started walking again; he didn't know where he was going but his body did. Blinding lights and choppy wind, emitting from some source above him, snaps him back into reality and he squints, covering his eyes with his arm. Voices from that light shouted at him in an alien tongue, his mind freezing and his body reacting. He felt goosebumps pricking his skin, cold blood pumping through his veins, tasted fear and adrenaline on his tongue as he observes his surroundings. The damp road continued in front and behind him, a dense wall of trees following the road on each side and the moon hides behind a thick fog. He glances down at his trembling hands, deep purple freckles covering his knuckles, much like on his face and the boy notices his pale purple skin is fading to an even paler colour. He remembers how vibrant it used to be and he sighs. Too much blood lost and he'd never escape the grotesque monsters so he thought fast; he could easily run bsba the way he came but that would be pointless. Scratch that thought. He could try to run past them but they might shoot him in the leg to apprehend him. Scratch that too. He looked to the wall of trees, seeing if continues on for what seemed like forever; he could hide and never be found. Perfect.

He ran into the woods next to him, his legs carrying him quickly and quietly but he couldn't feel the normal rush he got when he was scared. Deciding to shrug it off, he keeps running, the voices following closely behind and also above, scaring the boy senseless. His wits leave him and his breathing becomes heavy and loud, his legs bowing too often for his comfort. His eyelids become heavy and his body feels like it's made of lead, but he had to keep going because he knew that voice. They want to make him their permanent lab rat and he's determined to get out this time, no matter the price. Images of its face flash in the boy's mind, making him shake and stumble over branches and rocks as he hears it speak loudly in his mind. He remembers it smelled of rotting flesh, its skin looked how it smelled and its eyes could rip your soul to shreds and leave you an unstable, mindless  _thing._ But what he hated most was its voice; just the  _sound_ made him feel nauseated yet petrified. How its voice sounded like what he imagined the evil of all evils, he'd never know. He recalls one memory  _vividly ,_ that being the boy's breaking point. He collapses on the forest floor, screaming as pain floods back from before. The knife he uses cutting deep into his skin, the rapid beep of a strange monitor attached to him and the sound of aliens chattering shut his mind and body off, hurling him into the empty void of unconsciousness.

After what feels like an eternity of nothing, he finally sees  _something._ That "something" terrifies the boy, his cries muffled and warped; barely audible. He sees himself like in a mirror but he looks like those freaks; his skin peeling off his face and body, his teeth sharp, bloodstained and his eyes vacant. His skin was no longer a pleasant, pastel purple like he had at birth but a dark, rotting green and his hair black as a raven. He felt the urge to vomit but his blood runs cold and his eyes widen when he notices that  _demon_ standing behind his disgusting phantasm with a grin as it grips his shoulder. All he can think is to destroy that thing so he slams his fists into his doppelgänger and it shatters, the laugh of that alien echoing all around him then dissipating. The boy shivers and sits, bringing his knees to his chest to hug them and hums softly to himself; he feels so cold but so calm as his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he sees the face of that hellion looming over him, his smile huge and his breath like decay. The boy trembles but not out of fear, no, out of anger. He despises this creature and wants it gone,  _forever;_ he knows every detail of that creature's face and it makes him sick. Its giant scar running the length of his face that he so recklessly put there himself. Its lonIts long, jagged, black teeth showed behind its curled lips and its beady, malicious eyes penetrated to his soul.

The boy smiles back, grabbing a thick tree branch lying on the forest floor next to him and pauses, taking in his surroundings before acting. The thing whispers something to him as he grabs a knife from another alien next to him and the boy sees three more; blinding lights behind and all around them. Analysing, he shifts his weight slightly, wincing as he does; he can hardly move. Anyone in their right mind would be terrified but he's calm as he swiftly and effectively plunges the semi-sharp branch in the alien's neck. It chokes and falls back, grabbing its neck and blood sprays from its mouth and neck. It writhes in pain, screeching and clawing at the branch sloppily. The boy quickly scrambles back, letting the other creatures grab him and lift him harshly off the ground. All he cares about its that _it_ is suffering,  _dying;_ he killed it. He killed his nightmare, the thing that tortured him for so long is finally going go away forever. He could finally be free now; he could finally  _breathe._ He smiles blissfully as the other brutes take him away. He didn't care what they did; he couldn't feel a thing and that's all that mattered. He kept smiling even as they threw him on the ground and he could hear the plasma guns charging behind him. He laughed as he felt heat swell in his skull like electricity then all went silent and dark.

He felt that void swallow him up again and he could feel rain soaking into every pore; trickling under his skin to fill his body and mind.

_"Petrichor..."_


End file.
